


1996

by formeldehyde



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Cas is still an angel, De-Aged Castiel (Supernatural), De-Aged Dean Winchester, First Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:55:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19842151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formeldehyde/pseuds/formeldehyde
Summary: The year 1996, Lawrence was swallowed by a heat wave, Dean Winchester just finished high school. Cas can't help but transport himself back before, well, before everything. He wanted to let himself fall in love with Dean, just once, the right way.





	1. Kansas Heat

Lawrence was never a busy town, planted in the middle of nowhere Kansas. There were no tourists, no shopping malls, just acres of yellowed farmland and dry meadows. 

Summer in the midwest was dry and exhausting, Dean was out back working on an old truck for some extra cash. Black t-shirt clinging to him like a second skin, blue jeans covered in grease and blood. His mind still reeling in aftershocks from last nights hunt. Werewolves were nasty, but a whole pack was deadly. Their ferocious loyalty reminded Dean too much of himself, how they were ruthless once a member was hurt. Days like this he wished he could be a kid, a real kid again. He'd stabbed, gutted, and burnt too many monsters to count. The weight kept his head down, bowing in submission to the life his father chose for him. 

The night the Winchester house went up in flames was just about the most exciting thing that had ever happened in their small town. Dean remembers it only in fire and the smell of ash, echoing screams, flashing police lights, and the feeling of Sam's tiny body in his arm.   
It was not town gossip for John, Dean or Sam. That night the boys lost the only chance at happiness they had. Their community held desperately onto the tragedy because it was something to talk about; the grieving senile widow and his sons. Early life in Lawrence was full of wide pitying eyes, casseroles left on the porch, and the boys counting the second they could get away from it all. It twisted his stomach in knots every time a well meaning housewife would tell him he had his mother's eyes. Thank you, he always said when he really wanted to say fuck you. 

It should be Dean's senior year now, had he not just dropped out of the only high school within a 20 mile radius the past winter. School was never for him, he hated being stuck in a pit of bible thumping morons who had never seen a glimpse of pain beyond sunburn from working the fields in July. Dean was seventeen and he was finally a full time hunter, following in John's footsteps like an obedient soldier. He wasn't entitled, he was jealous. So jealous of their full families and white fences, photo albums and sports teams. Their ignorance to the darkest parts of this world. The parts that Dean saw every time he closed his eyes to sleep at night.

Dean threw his towel down, walking over to the shed to sit in the shade. The dry wood creaked as he rested his weight on the stairs. Besides scattered farms, the cornfields ahead were clear and vast. Kansas was free and open but beyond that, the emptiness felt suffocating. He pulled out a pack of reds and lit one up. Dean swallowed his smoke and pride, though. Puffing and drinking away his pain just like dad taught him. But, alone with only the nauseating heat of the sun and the sound of locust, he understood his brother. Sam didn't like their dad, Dean knew this. He didn't like the way he drank, or talked, or yelled, or never comforted them like he should. Sammie wanted a normal life, wanted college, a nine-to-five, a wife and kids. How a thirteen year old could know all that, he wasn't sure. And, Dean would never say it aloud, but damn he wanted that for his little brother. He wished he could toss the little Einstein out on the street just to get him away from monsters under his bed. Part of Dean wanted that too, but he gave up on that the night he heard his mother's last words-just screams.

He snuffed the dart out on the bottom of his boot, tapping out on work for the day. Some of the older kids in town were having a field party tonight, Dean was fully planning to drink the flashbacks of fire, werewolf teeth, and blood out of his system. 

Once Dean got out of the shower, he put a clean shirt and headed downstairs. Sam was back from the library, sitting on the couch in the living room, swallowed by Dean's hand-me-down flannel. John had been out all day, Dean knew he wasn't coming home. He and Bobby were planning to find the feral omega that slipped past them during the fight. Dean felt bad that Sam had so many night like this, he did too, no dinner and no goodnights. It always hurt to say, "Sammy, l'm going out tonight." 

"Okay." Sam didn't flinch, just kept flipping through some book, not bothering to even look at his brother. His shyness was something Dean didn't get, he didn't laugh away his pain or pretend to be happy. He just swallowed it, stuffed his head between pages and bit his fingernails bloody. They all have their vices, Dean was happy Sam's was reading and not something far more poisonous. 

"There's leftovers, don't stay up too late." Dean ruffled up the kid's hair and was on his way, cigarette dangling out his mouth as he hopped in one of their pick-ups. Dean found he preferred the nights, driving alone with the radio on. Letting the houses and fields blend together and smear in his windows. 

Sunset made the heat worth it, just for that hour when the sky turns every possible color, spreading across cloudless air with the sun eating away at the West. Dean pulled up to Katie's house as darkness swallowed the countryside. He followed a Camry through the dirt driveway that wrapped to the back of the property. It was already filled with cars and kids throwing beer boxes into the fire. Dean lit his fag and hopped out, tucking his white shirt into his pants. He was no more than a few steps toward the crowd when the enthusiastic brunette hurled into his arms. 

"Dean! You made it!" She was gorgeous, all big doe eyes and freckles with dark curls. Dimpled and curvy, Dean didn't have to go out of his way to get women but Katie had been a hard catch. Eleven years of school together, three years of flirting, to finally get her to respond. Tonight was the night, church girl's parents out of town for the county agriculture fair, her first party. Dean should be excited, but every time one of those football fucks screamed, he jumped in his boots, skin crawling. The Kansas heat felt like a wolf breathing on the back his neck.

Dean forced a smile as the girl drug him to the keg, pouring out a beer for both of them. The kids around them were the ones Dean couldn't seem to get away from, despite his best attempts. These guys who bully Sammy, these girls who never really cared for him beyond a pity lay. Dean downed his beer quickly, pouring another for himself.

The night faded into a drunken blur quickly. The flask in his pocket getting lighter and lighter as his stomach filled with whiskey. Katie had pulled him into the barn, kissing all over his neck. She was short so he picked her up, in an attempt to press her against the wall he fumbled. The dark space behind them became alive and began growling. Next thing he knew he was on his ass, the door slammed shut and he was alone. 

Suddenly the booze weighed him down, he felt glued to the hay and dirt. The growling was louder now, the darkness only broken by a streak of fire light coming in through the cracks in the door. In the brief light he saw yellow eyes and gnashing teeth. His skin went cold and he heaved onto the ground, standing weakly and fighting the way his knees wanted to buckle. He stumbled out of the barn and out into the field, avoiding the swarm of singing and screaming teenagers. 

Standing in the open meadow, the stars seemed brighter than the did looking out his window. Orion's belt glittered against the black void. He squinted a bit, the stars seemed blinding and then a single shooting star crossed the sky. White, nearly blue against the darkness. It kept going, growing brighter. Dean looked around and found himself yards from the party, the stereo and conversation nothing but a distant echo. 

He felt detached, more like a freak now than ever. The star seemed to be a comet, but Sam was a nerd and Dean couldn't remember him talking about a meteor shower tonight. 

Dean's ivy green eyes were glittering in the reflection of the icy white star. Widening as the comet fell to earth. Just at that moment, across the field a tree caught fire, like it was struck by lightning on a cloudless night. He swore this couldn't have all been the Jack Daniels. At this point, Dean had forgotten about werewolves, about Katie. He wiped his mouth and headed further into the cornfield, determined to follow the hazy glue blow on he horizon.


	2. Blue Haze

The dried cornstalks cracked beneath his feet as Dean headed toward the blue light. It looked like water and fire combined, slowly dwindling down near the tiny creek that ran between the fields. 

Now he could see the tree that was struck clearly and he could barely believe it. The bark had been petrified, feeling like marbled glass under his fingertips. Split straight down the middle but the leaves were greener than they'd been in spring, budding with small white and yellow flowers. 

He couldn't understand it, how an oak could bloom, how wood could petrify perfectly, how a star could really fall. How all of this had happened and no one at the party noticed. Dean thought he better call his dad, but he didn't. He couldn't explain any of this but the comet seemed to draw him closer. 

Dean ran down to where the fire had become a dull glow, hidden in tall grasses around the creek bed. The closer he got, he realized it was no star, no comet. No space rock lay by the water, just a boy passed out on the ground. There was no fire and the sky had cleared of icy plume. 

The scrawny kid looked to be about Dean's age, maybe he had wondered here from the party... "Hey, are you okay?" Dean put his hand on the kid's shoulder, shaking him lightly, pulling him so he was on his back. Dean checked his pulse, afraid the poor guy had choked on his own vomit or something. His face was dirty, but Dean felt a gasp slip out of his lips. 

The boy had black hair, a little curly that fell down against his face. His eyes opened slowly and they were like dark oceans, bubbling over with tears. What the hell happened to him? Dean repeated, "Are you okay?"

The kid nodded, something about him felt familiar and alien all at once. "I am okay." His voice was gravelly, almost like someone much older in the way he enunciated. Dean helped him sit up, brushing off the dirt off his trench coat? 

"I'm Dean, by the way. What the hell happened to you?" Dean laughed, "Did you see the comet?" Dean snapped back to his thoughts, the kid was right where he thought the blue star had landed.

The kid smiled a little, almost sadly. "No I didn't...I do not remember how I got here. My name is Casti-Cas." 

Dean was beyond confused. He guessed he should help before he kept interrogating. He just extended his hand to pull the kid, Cas, off the ground. He was wearing a tie, dress shirt, black shoes, like he had come from a service. He was shy, always avoiding Dean's eyes and questions. "Can I drive you home?" The question fell out of his drunken lips unplanned. He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

"I don't think you should be driving anywhere." Cas shuffled with his feet, wiping off his face. "I'll be okay."

Dean put his hand on Cas' back, "Alright, man, just let me at least walk you back to civilization." He did, they walked through the fields side by side. Dean still unable to shake the chills over his freckled skin, eyes locked on either the stars above him or the mysterious boy who kept quiet as they wandered pass the bonfire. 

Katie caught Dean's gaze, turning away as if disgusted with him. He definitely wasn't getting another chance with her, not that he gave a damn at this point. The rest of the kids seemed to be slowing down as the liquor caught up to them. Fuck this, Dean thought. He knew he shouldn't be driving but Hell, he wasn't staying here. "I'm gonna head home, are you sure you don't need a ride?"

"No, really...I'm staying not too far from here. Just uh," Cas hesitated, clearing his throat, "be careful, Dean."

The kid's earnest tone made Dean feel a bit guilty, he was still drunk despite emptying most of his stomach in the barn. The light from the porch allowed Dean to see the bright blues of Cas' eyes, dark ocean rims with ice caps in the middle. They looked ancient, Dean felt a bit weak in the knees. He told himself it was from the Jack.

He coughed, "Uh, maybe I'll see you around?" He tried his best to seem cool, smirking as he pulled out a red and put it between his lips. He fumbled for a lighter before realizing he must've dropped it somewhere in the field. 

"Maybe." Cas smiled, quickly and awkwardly before turning away from Dean. "Goodnight." He walked away, down the drive and toward the main road. Dean stood there, staring at the empty spaces behind Cas' footsteps, unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

Dean couldn't quite shake the feeling the kid was lying about something. Dean knew everyone in this town and people rarely moved to Lawrence. Even more rare is it that Dean finds someone new passed out in the creek behind Katie Joseph's house on the night of a meteor shower. 

He was kind though, Dean's paranoia usually meant he was suspicious of any new characters- even kids. But Cas' 'be careful' rang in his head and Dean decided to get Katie's brother to drive him home, he'd take a walk up in the morning to get his truck. He needed to get another look at that tree, maybe bring Sam to see if he had any ideas. 

Drunken rides home were lively, tonight Sean was blasting Metallica as Dean sang into the blurring night sky. He felt old so many nights, the weight of death and blood like a noose around his neck. But with enough smoke and booze he could feel the lighthearted youth that still kept him going. He wanted to see things, help people, he had a life in front of him and his mom never would've wanted him to waste it. 

He crawled into his bed by some miracle before 3 a.m, feeling beyond exhausted. He lit the fag and watched the blue smoke fill his room. That color was all he saw on the backs of his eyelids, as he drifted to sleep. Dreams of asteroids, glowing stars and smeared galaxies came to him in his slumber. Big ocean eyes, and blooming yellow flowers marked the first night in so many without nightmares. 

\-----

Cas was staying in a motel near the drive in, not too far from the Winchester house. It was small with only an old woman bookkeeping. He paid her for a few months advance, and a little extra not to bother him. Cas had to watch the TV just to distract himself from how it looked like so many places he'd visited Dean in throughout the years. Same peeling wallpaper and printed sheets, reeking of lysol and smoke. 

Too much had happened. The near apocalypse, the leviathans. After everything, Cas only wanted to spend time real time- human time with Dean. See him when he wasn't poisoned by trauma and worn down from a lifetime in Hell. Get up close and soak in the youth he saw in brief yellow glints in green irises when the morning light soaks into Dean's eyes. When he laughs and his cheeks get rosy, his freckles bright from a summer spent in Bobby's yard. 

All these snapshots collected in Cas' mind, in a deep private sector that caused him so much conflict. It took him being ripped away from Dean for him to understand. All those moments he cherished, played over and over- Dean's arms around his waist, His hand on Dean's shoulder- all of it was love. 

Cas fell in love with Michael's vessel, and he defied his whole family to keep a human safe. He couldn't love him the way he wanted to, he wasn't sure he even had the ability. This was Cas' first night in 1996. Alone, he couldn't help but regret this whole plan. But as soon as he saw Dean, hair lighter and messy around his face. That damned cocky smirk, the slow grit of his voice, how enamored he was by Cas' grace as it fell to Earth...all of it was too much. Cas didn't think he'd see him so soon after his fall. Dean was nothing if not unexpected.

He settled in for the night, trying to decide if he should abandon it all or if he should try to love Dean, just once, the right way. If he even felt the same.


	3. August Burns

The morning sun felt like a blanket of nausea over his body as it beat on Dean's window. He was groggy but not horribly hungover, he actually felt rested for the first time in weeks. His body was heavy as he hopped into the shower, letting the cold water wake him up. 

He made a mental note to ask Sam about comets at breakfast as he got dressed, pulling on a worn AC/D.C. muscle shirt and some black jeans. He adjusted his necklace while he looked out to his driveway, John still hadn't gotten home. Dean went to his dresser, grabbing his keys off the top and pulling out a joint he rolled the other day.

"Sammy!" Dean rattled on his brother's door. "I'm making breakfast come on!" He put the jay back in between his lips and lit it as he ran down the stairs. He turned the radio on full blast just to fuck with Sam, dancing around as he made them some eggs and bacon. 

He'd been smoking a lot more these days. John's absence meant for a lot of extra time that Dean filled with weed and work. Sam hated the smell of smoke so Dean usually kept it outside, same as when he drank. But having John gone meant he could open all the windows and blinds, air out the suffocating space they lived in. It was a moderately big house but it was cluttered with junk, the empty spaces a little too empty without Mary. 

Morning highs were nice, Dean felt calm as he laid out their plates. He poured them both a cup of coffee while Sam stumbled down the steps. He looked like he'd been up all night, slouching and stumbling like a deadweight.

"You were out late." He said, muffled by the coffee mug. 

"I know, sorry kid but I got somethin' crazy to tell you." Dean explained the comet, the fire, the tree, all of it. He only left out Katie's rejection, he still had to seem like a womanizer despite the fact that his thoughts were mostly occupied by that dark haired boy. His baby blues were all Dean could think of, how they looked just like the sparkling star.

"That doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard of. Are you going back today?"

"Yeah, I gotta grab the truck, wanna come with?" Dean asked, shoveling eggs into his mouth. Sam nodded. Dean hoped they could figure it out, that this was all something easily explainable. He also hoped to see Cas again. 

Morning munchies always hit hard, he scarfed down his plate in a few minutes. He cleaned up after them and they headed out. 

Sam was a bit slow behind him, still groggy and half asleep as they trudged down the dirt road. He finally spoke when they passed the old church on the corner, about five minutes from the Joseph's. 

"Do you think it's all connected? Like a case?" Sam questioned, his shaggy hair was sticking to his forehead and he'd tied his flannel round his waist. 

Dean sighed, taking a few sips from his water bottle before dumping the rest on his head. "Fuck summer..." He grumbled, "I don't know, Sammy. It all happened so quick. I feel like there's something going on."

"Witches would explain the tree but not the comet," Sam then went over a brief list of hypotheses he must've been mulling over on their walk. 

"Exactly, I can explain some of it but not all of it, and definitely not all of it happening within a ten minute period in the middle of a cornfield in bum fuck nowhere," Dean laughed. They were walking onto Katie's lawn now, still littered with empty beer bottles and cups. 

Dean surveyed the scene, the space behind them was clear and there was no evidence to show something like an asteroid. His truck was still parked near the back of the property and he began walking further before he realized the tree was still there. "Sam look," he pointed out across the field. 

"A tree? So what?" His little brother scoffed a bit, confused. 

"Sam, its August. You feel this heat, so does everything. Do you see one plant blooming like that? Not to mention the lightning strike that petrified it." Dean had no more answers than when he left last night. 

Admitting defeat, Dean ignored his curiosities. Sam crawled in the passenger seat and Dean started the truck. They were about half way down the drive when Sean came running out of the house. 

"Winchester! Hold on!" He jogged to the end of his yard to meet the boys. "I think you dropped this last night," Sean tossed something into the cab. Dean stared at the bizarre technology that landed in his lap. It was flat and had a bright screen like a small TV. This was most definitely not his. 

"Hey thanks, where'd you find it?"

"Out in the field near the creek, my dog was acting crazy last night and ran off. I went out lookin' for her and found it, saw your name on the uh whatever it is." He laughed a bit, running his fingers through his short brown hair. "I gotta run or I'll be late for work, catch you later." 

My name? Dean looked at the device, seeing a small green bubble that said 'Dean Winchester (2) messages unread' 

"Okay, Sam, this is it. I'm losing my mind: what the hell am I lookin' at here." He tossed his brother the device.

"I have no clue..." 

\------

Cas fumbled around his stuff, cursing himself for losing his phone. Not that it worked across timelines, but Dean had bought it for him. 

He went into the bathroom, observing his reflection. It was odd too see his vessel in this state, so small-young. He'd aged to about eighteen before making the leap, it'd taken nearly all his power to do this but he couldn't stay. 

Jimmy had been quite an attractive teenager, high cheekbones, dark lashes, and a lean, nearly spindly frame. Cas still opted for his usual attire, unable to tear himself from the trench coat that still smelled like his Dean.

A clean dress shirt and black jeans instead of slacks were the only casual adjustments he made to his appearance. He hoped this vessel was good enough, he hoped he was good enough. He'd been feeling so on edge since he got here, he had no choice but to say. His grace was so weak. 

Despite his doubts, he was excited to see Sam as a child, the way Cas knew Dean still saw him. 

Millennia of isolation, despite a crowded house, does something terrible to a soul. Angels weren't created incapable of feeling, just incapable of disobeying. After Lucifer, they all had no trust. Only blind devotion to God's will. Cas and his brothers became heartless without their father, he saw the same thing in the Winchesters.

These brothers were so much more than the rebellious brother and the dutiful soldier-son, Cas still was in awe of these boys who said fuck you to God's plans. To Michael and Lucifer themselves. Cas had grown obsessed with their humanity, loyalty, love. He had never seen anything like it in Heaven or Hell. When they opened up to him, trusted him, Cas finally felt like he wasn't alone. 

He was selfish, their loyalty wasn't enough. He was envious of anything that occupied Dean Winchester's time. He'd had too many almost kisses, too many drunken prayers, too many hours spent wondering what in the hell made those green eyes so magnificent. Knowing that God himself stitched each iris, each fleck of gold that made Cas' chest ache. 

He felt it first with the horsemen. He would never let it be known but he'd been shoveling hamburgers in his face to avoid shoving his face against Dean's. He'd ignored it but it didn't stop, it only got worse as the days passed.

Since then he realized the hunger he felt for Dean was so much more than just that. He couldn't starve himself any more. He didn't care if he was being selfish.

At least that's what he told himself.


	4. Mama, There's Wolves in the House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from Wolves by Phosphorescent

Dean's running list of odd events was getting a little too big for the dog days. Even with John nowhere to be seen, he usually felt capable of dealing with these things. But this shit was weird and not in the scary, murder-y way that he'd grown used to. The comet, the tree-It was a cosmic anomaly wrapped in the mystery of a drunken night; seemingly unsolvable. 

The boys pulled into their driveway, Sam was still fidgeting with the thing Sean gave them. They walked inside, Dean barely had time to close the door behind him before he heard heavy footsteps coming toward them.

"Where the hell were you?!" John looked exhausted, his beard wild and eyes bags heavy on his dark eyes. He reeked of booze and cigar smoke. Clothes disheveled and dirty, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. 

Immediately he was in Dean's face. John had a growl in his voice that made Dean instinctively shove Sam behind him. "I had to go get the truck, dad. I'm sorry I didn't think you'd be home."

John laughed, a sickeningly condescending chuckle. "Of course. I'm with Bobby hunting the bitch that killed Tom and you're going out getting piss drunk, leaving Sam alone in the house all night!" John had Dean pressed against the door now,   
hand grabbing hard at his hair. 

Sam had moved off to the side, head hung down. It broke Dean's heart, he hated when Sam saw him like this. He adored that Sam looked up to him but the responsibility of being a role model was a lot of stress.

Dean said nothing, just froze like a deer. In these moments, any good part of his father was hard to see. He had a cloud of rage encircling him. He moved closer, putting his hand in Dean's hair, tugging it back and slamming against the door. "This pack is tracking me, I gotta get the two of you the hell out of here before they come. Pack your shit up, we're leaving tonight."

"Yes sir," Dean practically bolted up the stairs, the door slamming behind him. 

He had thought the girl was an omega, she shouldn't have a pack. Not after they killed most everyone in the nest. Dean shivered every time he thought of it. Werewolves could be tame, live normally, but feral dogs have to be put down. At least that's what John said. 

Dean sighed, sitting down on his bed, even without his father touching him he felt like he could barely move. His hands were shaking, and his heart wouldn't stop beating. His eyes began to well up with tears; he was afraid of closing them. Once he did all he saw was guilt: Sam being ripped apart by canines, Cas being dragged off into the woods through the cornfields, Dean's stomach shredded by claws and fangs. 

"Her alpha bit her before we got there, or she found someone to kill and take their pack over because she's backed by about ten giant fuckin' mutts." John grumbled as he barged into the room. He had a beer in his hand, took a swig before closing the door. 

Dean clenched up, uneasy with his Dad getting closer. He wasn't usually like this, but the cases have been building up, so have the years. His dad was the best hunter, intelligent and deadly. However, years of being unable to put the head of the yellow eyed demon on a stake made him insecure. He was reckless to prove he could kill anything that threatened him or his family.

"Dean."

"Yeah, Dad?" He tried to hide the quiver in his voice, the tears that were clung to the back of his throat. He grabbed his knife out of his pocket, beginning to sharpen it just so he didn't have to meet his father's gaze. 

John rubbed his eyes, "Please don't make me force you to do this." 

Guilt flooded Dean's body, his Father seemed upset. Tom was one of his only close friends and Dean was doing nothing to help his dad. "I'm sorry...you aren't. Of course I want the bitch dead." He paused, swallowing his pride, "I shouldn't have left the house."

"You can leave, this isn't a fucking prison but, God damnit Dean! You can't leave Sam in an empty house all night! He is your responsibility, you know better than that." John turned and left Dean on the bed, his blade in his hand. 

He gripped it tightly, pressing the pad of his finger against the sharp point, watching it well up with blood. 

\-----

Cas wished he could sleep, dream. Maybe if he could hold Dean in dreams, for hours in unawake bliss, he wouldn't have made the deal, used his powers for selfish desires. Went back in time to have Dean all to himself, just for once. He had only had nightmares when he was human, only flashbacks of pain and misery. 

He couldn't have those sweet lies during the night, see his beautifully aged Dean smiling at him in morning light. His eyes crinkling at the corners, his hearty laugh filling whatever room they were in. 

But, no, Cas just laid on top of the comforter. Staring at the back of his eyelids, wishing the colorless blobs would form into the shape of the man he was loved. 

He turned the TV on, letting whatever soap opera drown out the sound of nothing. Emptiness was something Cas knew too well; the hours he spent waiting on Dean, waiting for the sound of his voice in a prayer. In a sea of human pain like a thousand voices in a muffled crowd, Dean's prayers were clear and loud through their cries. Cas missed the sound of his voice.

The sun rose and Cas was back in the field, standing by the tree that bloomed from his grace. He lost so much dragging himself here, the second he touched ground he felt his feathers fly in a dozen directions. Black bits of his wings becoming fire until they burnt into the earth, a mighty oak became alive again from its ashes. 

He often thought Dean's soul would be a phoenix, rising and being reborn in flames again and again. Immortal but fragile. Cas' true form had always had the heads of fawn and lambs. Innocent and bowing in submission. 

Dean had been an angel alongside him in the only good dream Cas had when he was human. The Winchester had flaming golden wings and feathers of amber. He had many heads; birds of prey, lions and bears. It had been his soul, in its most angelic form. How God created him inside; only held by his human form- to fuse with God's saving archangel.

Michael was his brother but he was not good enough for Dean. Michael was obsessed and sociopathic, Dean was love and full of righteous empathy. Cas only wanted to keep him close and keep him safe. 

\----

They bumped into each other outside the gas station. Cas was wandering around town, unable to stay cooped up in the motel any longer. The afternoon was dull and he still couldn't find his phone. He was hoping it landed without breaking. 

Dean was picking up a few packs of reds for the trip. The stress of a trip made nicotine a necessity, It was a nasty habit but he needed them to keep his cool, keep his hands and mouth distracted. Dean was shaky just thinking about invading the pack. He hated dogs. 

It was a hundred degrees and he was wearing one of his friends Hawaiian button ups (not that it was buttoned). Still, he was sweaty and miserable, disoriented from the heat when he ran right into some guy's forehead. 

Cas had been a bit lost in thought, stumbling over the feet of the very boy on his mind. He was speechless, stuttering an attempt at apology. Then, there Dean was in all his suaveness.

"No worries uh...Cas right?" He asked, biting his damn tongue while he smirked. He was likely amused by the wild flush on Cas' face. He was flustered when he saw the disheveled boy, sweaty with nothing but a short sleeve top that showed his entire neck and torso. Cas could focus on nothing but Dean's bare, freckled chest and his amulet hanging between his pronounced collar bones.

"Y-yes. My apologies," He cast his gaze down to the ground, looking at the boy's black combat boots. 

"No problem at all, I wasn't paying attention either." There was a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Dean smiled at the boy who seemed so shy. Usually people like that made him paranoid but there was something unique about Cas. "Hey, can I ask you a weird question?"

"Yes," the angel blurted. 

Dean laughed, "What do you remember from last night?"

"Not much." 

Dean liked that, his smirk spreading into a grin. "Crazy party, right?" The idea of this kid who seemed to only wear business clothes getting blackout drunk was funny to him.

"Right." Cas smiled.

"Only asking cause I found this thing," Dean pulled something out of his pocket. "I didn't know if you saw whose it was."'

Cas felt relieved when he realized Dean had been the one to find his phone. "I think it's my boss'." 

Dean gave him a bit of a skeptical look. "What the hell is it?" 

"A piece of new technology we're trying to make...well- he is uh could I have it to return to him?" Cas didn't really need it back but he feared this Dean would find a way to get into it and see himself. It would be catastrophic to this timeline if he did, Cas didn't have the power to wipe the slate clean. 

"Sure man." Dean gave it to him, surprisingly. 

"Thank you, Dean."

"Hey you remembered my name though," Dean's smile returned and so did the weakness in Cas' knees and the metaphorical cat that had his tongue. He just nodded, feeling his own lips quirk up just a bit. 

"Well...I guess I'll see you around." Dean turned his head to the side and Cas could clearly see some sort of love bite on the crook of his neck. The boy shuffled his feet before coughing , "Uhm...Maybe Saturday when I get back from a trip. My friends are playing a show in town."

Now that caught Cas off guard. Dean was being so forward with his proposal. There's no way that was a date, just him being charming as always. "That sounds...cool!" Cas cringed, slang always sounded uncomfortable coming from his mouth. "I'd like that. Um...Where are you going?"

"Hunting, family thing."

Cas nodded. "Be careful."

Dean's smile dropped at that, nodding and saying a soft thanks. It was a bit awkward before Dean ducked into the convenience store. 

Did he just ask that guy on a date?


	5. Static and Coffee

Dean had a pounding headache, when he got home he didn't even look up from his feet as he headed upstairs. The floors creaking beneath his feet the only noise in the big, empty house. Even with three people living, it felt like a ghost house. Some days all Dean smelled was smoke burnt hair. Those days these white empty halls seemed like passageways between worlds-past and present. 

Sam was nowhere in sight, Dean was thankful for that. It was difficult seeing those big doe eyes when he felt so numb, like it was full of static. He was beyond terrified, between Cas and the werewolves, Dean was spinning. The promise of whatever was happening with Cas had him sweaty and anxious. 

He didn't understand how that boy got under his skin. Those damn shy eyes, bright blue and gorgeous. The way his little black curls fell over his face-God damn. Even his little stutter, the grit of his voice. Dean wanted to indulge that little rebellious streak in him as well. Getting drunk and blacking out was not something he ever would expect from a kid who wears a tie everyday. 

To be fair; Dean liked the quiet ones, or the ones with a little snark and dark side in them. All girls up until this point but it's not like Dean had never considered the idea. He'd fought alongside rough and dirty men with wiry beards. Dad's friends whose calloused hands always seemed to find the small of his back. Whispered commands in his ear during a hunt that had him feeling dizzy and nauseous but made his heartbeat race. This kid though, he was nothing like them. He wasn't like anyone. 

He hadn't meant to ask the kid out, he seemed mortified at first but Dean was so thankful for the way that strawberry blush began to spread over the tops of his cheeks. Now he was counting down the days till he got back from the raid- if he did. There was always the if, every hunter familiar with the feeling that each hunt may be their last. He hated putting Sammy through that, he didn't want Cas to go through it too. 

Dean sighed, grabbing a cigarette and heading into the shower. He liked to smoke in the bath, it was the closest thing to real alone time he got at the house. On the road he never had space or time to think by himself. His anxieties just piled on top of each other until he killed something. 

He was becoming more like his dad every day and he hated it.  
\-----

Cas was giddy all day, he felt younger than he had in all his years. This new body came with a lot of young features and he found himself face first in a cheeseburger. Apparently when you de-age your vessel you need to feed it, who knew?

Cas was halfway through his fries when he saw the Impala drive by, down the main road and toward the highway. He felt uncomfortable seeing John at the wheel, Sam in the back. Dean, however, was nowhere to be seen. 

He hadn't thought anything of it, really. Just headed back to the motel and filled his empty time with a random soap opera on TV. He felt very human here, no angels or demons thinking to look for him here (or now). 

His Dean, in real time, was up in Alaska with Sam for a big Wendigo case and a possible cult of cannibals. Nothing demonic, no reason for Cas to be there. Monsters were nothing to the boys at this point in their lives. That point being Dean's faded smile, weathered and waning over the years. Still there but just a little emptier, blood will do that. Death is a heavy weight on the Winchesters, it clings to their bones like a second skin. Dean uses it as a shield against anyone trying to get under it; against Cas. 

Dean Winchester of 1996 has a cherry pie smile and eyes that shine like firecrackers. His cheeks are freckles and soft, his skin unscarred and his heart open. Beautiful and honey sweet. 

Despite all of that, Cas is beginning to miss the crackle of Dean's aged voice. The trust in his eyes when he looks at Cas; the kind that can only be from a lifetime of wars fought side by side. 

This Dean has no clue Cas has died for him a thousand times. Maybe he never will.

\-----

It took Dean about an hour and a half to realize something was wrong. He was drying himself off, in nothing but his boxers when he saw that the Impala was still gone and so were Sam and John's duffels. 

'What the hell?' Dean thought, running to the phone and dialing his dad's cell number. 

Five missed calls later Dean had his answer; they left without him. Something had probably came up and John decided Dean was a deadweight. Fuck! 

His fist hit the wall and all he saw was white. Then red, as his knuckles begin to bleed. The idea of dad and Sammy alone on a hunt was driving him crazy. He was the one that made sure his brother was safe when his dad ran in guns blazin'. Dean was completely fucking useless in Lawrence. 

He decided he needed to blow off steam so he rolled a joint and sat out on the porch. It helped to slow down his thoughts, stop them from piling and piling. He really had no choice but to sit and await instruction. 

Dean fucking loved weed, he's sure he would have lost half his hair to stress by now if he didn't smoke. That said, when Mrs.Gerwich comes down the lane with a full lasagna in her hands, Dean had no choice but to chuck the roach and greet her with open arms. 

Bye the time she had given up trying to get the Winchesters in church, it was getting late. Dean said goodbye and headed back inside, bitter that his high got killed by a long chat about youth ministry. 

He was on the couch watching TV when he finally got a call. "Dad?"

"No, Dean, it's me."

"...Sean?"

"Yea dude, me and the boys are gonna hit the bars tonight, you in?"

"I actually can't tonight I gotta watch my brother."

"Huh really?"

"Yeah, really. Why?"

"Nothin' I just thought I saw him and your old man picking up road trip supplies. Looked like they were in a hurry down at the gas station near the main road."

Dean sighed, where the fuck were they and why hadn't they even bothered to leave a note? He tried to ignore his paranoia but his nerves got the best of him. "Oh yeah, my dad had some stuff to do but he decided Sam should stay here."

"That sucks man."

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later." Dean hung up. Now he was even more pissed, and bored. He brewed a cup of coffee and sat by the phone, this would be a long day. He wondered briefly what Cas was up to.

**Author's Note:**

> Dean is within the age of consent for the time and place of this fic but he is still under 18.


End file.
